You hurt me

“I’m sorry,” I said as I wiped my eyes, but it didn’t stop the ringing in my ears from echoing through the silence of the car. There was a reason that the words were saying it over and over again; there was no need for apologies, only pain and sadness and loss so much hurt. It wasn’t just me this time, it was everyone's fault, but most people’s pain was mine as well.

I looked down at my lap and felt like crying, for the first time since I found out my mother had died, then I stopped. My hands were curled into fists around her wrists, holding tight onto them tightly. Tears rolled down the sides of my face and I pulled myself together, trying to think straight, trying to figure out who I was going to tell. What was it I was going to tell? Was it going to be about him? Mommy? Or was it about dad? He was coming home? The list went on and I didn’t know when I would go to school tomorrow or what day of the week my parent would return home.

I tried not to cry but I couldn’t help it. I could barely breathe through each breath and I knew if something happened that it was up to the children to come to me instead of me to them.

“Come here,” I told one of my sisters. She had been standing behind me the whole way. When we got off the ride, she held my hand and asked me to stop crying. Her fingers gripped my arm as if they were clutching the truth of what transpired when she spoke. “I’m sorry, I need to tell you about your mom and this is why I don’t want to go to school today.” Then she kissed my temple and we all sat silent as she turned, still holding my hand. That was the last time we would see our beautiful mother, I could tell she was already gone because of the tears in her eyes. After that, I never spoke about my mother ever again.

It had been three years since I had seen her, I’d tried desperately to find her, try to explain away the cries and screams that I couldn’t contain inside. I tried everything in my power to leave her alone until after she left this world, but it didn’t work. One morning I woke up and saw her image etched in my mind as she carried out daily chores for my father. For the rest of my life, he did not talk about his own daughter, just to protect me.

It seemed like days to a week or months before I heard my father call our mother’s name, I could hear him shouting my name but the voice didn't sound right, so I thought maybe it was my brother. Once I heard his name, though, I knew it was my mother so I asked my sisters to get ready to go to school. However, my sisters had other plans, something else to share with me that night. They told me I needed to tell my father they had a special gift for him, that a woman named Sarah with two white cats was his niece, that they had gotten a letter of love from their parents, and that he wouldn't forget it. Their eyes lit up with joy and I couldn’t believe them. I wondered how many more days would I keep this secret that my sister was planning to save him. Then I heard footsteps and I smiled at my sisters as they came closer, one by one. Sarah looked at her husband while watching TV, then hugged and kissed him, then ran to the bathroom. As soon as she came back around, he came running like lightning, grabbing hold of Sarah’s shoulders. In his arms, he kissed Sarah twice upon the cheek while I watched helplessly, terrified of waking him to the news of our mother had passed away.

“Sarah! How…how did I know you were my friend's niece?” He whispered softly to her. “Can you tell me where my granddaughter may have found you, my wife?”

“I can’t wait to see you, I'm ready to leave and go for good if you are ready.” I pleaded. Our dad took Sarah inside and we went out into the living room and Sarah began preparing dinner. The clock hit 1 PM and I knew it wasn’t safe for anyone to go in the house at the moment; even if they were careful, a family member could spread an illness to others and take us away from dad if he wasn’t healthy and our mom was sick. Sarah came into the kitchen and stared at the black box that was placed on the table. “Can I leave this under the sofa so you won’t find it later?” She asked and turned to look directly into my eye.

“What now? Just give me the money. I will pay you back if I lose money.” Sarah said and I looked toward her, a little scared that something bad could happen. I wanted to ask questions but I just could’ve answered the phone calls back at the hotel right then, but I didn’t let it go out of my reach. I sat down next to my dad, putting my head through one of the many pillows sitting next to his side. It didn’t seem right to ask for money and he knew it too, so I let it go. He grabbed a knife and cut some meat for Sarah the next day in the middle of the day and I wondered why he did such things; why do we put food in a package and lock it away in the freezer with a piece of paper poking through the cracks in the door? Why were we so quick to destroy food, to kill? Did I really want to eat beef? And where was I supposed to hide the information that dad had told me about my mother? What if someone tried to kill my father and get away with it? Oh God, oh, why had the man never come back? He never wanted anyone in his position.

Sarah loved being with us in the hotel and when we walked out onto the balcony, Sarah jumped to her knees and kissed her father, giving him a hug. We sat down quietly in the lobby and in between bites, began to catch up on old times and news about mom. By lunchtime, everyone in the lobby was already talking, it was a huge surprise for everyone except Sarah, but her mood was cheerful and she made sure to make dinner reservations for the entire group. Sarah wanted a new dress, a red one. Sarah and I were both hoping it would be a pink, bright color. But it would be hard to change our minds if I didn’t like it. Sarah wanted to wear my older high heels and my hair done, parted and braided, in a ponytail. I wanted to feel sexy and shiny enough to bring back any memories and I wanted my hair to curl, but I didn’t care enough to cut it yet. Sarah, on the other hand, wanted to wear dark blue heels, shorts, and a top hat from college, not even wearing socks. A little red blouse, a pair of matching pants, and a shirt would make the entire ensemble pretty easy to understand.

Sarah did not have to pay for the meals out at the front desk, she did not have to wash dishes in the sink, she did not have to clean toilets at the bar, and she simply stood at the counters and asked if everyone wanted to sit.

There was a knock on the door. Sarah turned and opened the door without hesitation. Two men entered, followed by two women. Both of the men wore suits and had thick files and the man that knocked at the door had thinned hair and looked good-looking. I could see Sarah laughing when he approached her. Sarah closed the door, put the key into the lock, and pushed the door open.

The knock on the door echoed louder and louder as my heart skipped at different rhythms. Sarah started pulling some sheets and dresses from the closet and arranging them. My stomach growled louder as I watched Sarah pull the clothes and fold them to make herself look better. She kept putting the tops back in the bag. It seemed like hours, I could only see Sarah walking and folding again and again for several minutes. In the end, the woman took all the clothes back out and brought them back to me, and gave me the keys. There was a sign that read, "Good Luck" in big letters across the top. Sarah looked down at the sign and smiled. She hugged and kissed my sister and kissed the lady as she left.

I asked why Sarah had to kiss a stranger on the lips. Like most things, I didn’t answer the question. Maybe I was crazy or insane enough to believe that Sarah was going to save my father? Even though Sarah wouldn’t want any harm done to my father, I liked to think I knew she was going to do it, it only made sense. I told my sister about Sarah, my new friend. I told my parents about her, but again, I didn’t know what I was going to say or how to say it in words. I explained that Sarah was looking for the papers and how my father might help her find them. They laughed and I hoped they would laugh at my jokes. All I wanted was confirmation, I wanted to know that Sarah was going to help my father because of him saving her.

After finishing up my breakfast, I rushed to the elevator and waited impatiently while Sarah walked upstairs.

“Are you okay?” Mary asked and I tried to smile; it was hard to tell if she was crying